Slow and Steady
by ClassyGirlsWearPearls
Summary: How Greg worked up to taking Mycroft's v card. A prequel to "Meeting the Family"
1. Chapter 1

Mycroft was thankful when Lestrade had told him that he wanted to take things slowly when it came to the physical aspect of their relationship.

"It isn't that I'm not attracted to you," he had stuttered in the back seat of one of Mycroft's cars. "Really the opposite, actually. But our schedules are both mad and I want a strong emotional connection with you rather than just a physical one. Plus, I haven't been with anyone new in so many years and I don't want to screw this up. Is that okay with you?"

Mycroft smiled. "I believe you've just presented me a solution to a problem I have been worrying about ever since you asked me to dinner, Gregory."

Greg's face drained a bit. Perhaps Mycroft was just humoring him and didn't want to be intimately involved. He would understand. He would hate it, but he would understand.

"Enlighten me, then. What's your problem?"

"You see, I-" Mycroft took a deep breath and paused, looking into the DI's eyes. God, they were gorgeous. "I'm a, well, I've never done what you're suggesting we engage in and I wasn't sure if I would be ready tonight if that's what you wanted."

Greg was silent for a few seconds. "Mycroft, if you hadn't wanted anything to happen tonight and I had, I would have understood."

"Thank you, Gregory. That means more than I can say."

"If you aren't totally ready anytime soon I would really understand. I can wait as long as you need me to. We can take it slow. Slow and steady," Greg said, smiling.

Mycroft took Greg's hand and caressed his knuckles with his thumb. "Would you like to come back to my place? I'm not ready for anything to happen, but if you're comfortable with it, I would love for you to stay over with me."

"I would like that very much."

That night, they spent the night just getting familiar with each other. It got off to a bit of a rocky start when Mycroft jumped when Greg caressed his hand in the same way that Mycroft had rubbed his earlier in the car.

"My apologies," he quickly apologized. "It's just that I have rarely been touched intimately before and don't know how to respond to it."

Greg's heart shattered a bit for Mycroft's sake in that moment. "That's fine. We're taking this at your pace, remember?"

"My pace is going to be glacial at best," Mycroft admitted.

Greg shrugged. "That just means that every milestone is going to be that much more special when we reach it."

Mycroft turned a furious shade of pink and ducked his head. "I am also not accustomed to people speaking like that to me."

"You're going to have to get used to it because I'm going to be doing it as often as I can. You're even more endearing when you blush."

"I look ridiculous. Ginger hair and a pink face clash horrendously," Mycroft said, shaking his head and keeping his head down.

"Nonsense," Greg chuckled. "I think that it's the most beautiful reaction I've ever seen from a man."

"Please, Gregory, you must go easy on your compliments as well. I know you mean well, and I truly appreciate it, but I'm not used to it. It's a bit embarrassing."

"I'm sorry. I'll stop for now, I promise," Greg said, still grinning. "Come on, lift your head up, Mycroft. You don't need to worry about blushing and being embarrassed around me."

Mycroft sighed and raised his head. His face was still pink, but not quite as dark as it had been before.

"There we go," Greg said gently. "Now, if you're comfortable with it, I would very much like to hold your hand while we drink this scotch. May I?"

A bit of the pink returned to Mycroft's face, but his head remained up and the corners of his mouth turned up. "You may."

"Thank you." Greg then reached over and took Mycroft's hand in his. Mycroft was trembling very slightly, and his palms were a bit slick, but Greg didn't care. He was elated just to be allowed this small victory over Mycroft's insecurities. He continued to gently rub Mycroft's knuckles and kept up the conversations that they had been having earlier. He wanted to make sure that Mycroft was distracted and got comfortable to the point where he barely noticed that Greg was holding his hand.

Finally, he stifled a little yawn, and Mycroft stood up, breaking his grip on his hand.

"I believe that we're both a bit more tired than we want to admit," he smiled, taking Greg's glass and setting both of them in his dishwasher. "Shall we retire?"

"You make that sound so much more posh than it actually is." Greg stood and stretched. "Which way to your guest bedroom?"

Mycroft looked puzzled. "Don't people usually stay in the same bed when they stay the night at the home of a person they're involved with?"

"Well, yes, but I wasn't sure if that would constitute as 'too much too quickly,'" he admitted.

"I would be happy to share my bed with you, Gregory. Just don't try to do anything unsavory that would compromise my maidenhood," Mycroft smirked.

Greg chuckled. "Well then. Do you have some pajamas that I could borrow? Wouldn't want you to have to kip next to me in just my pants."

"As much as I would like that, Gregory, I don't believe that I would be able to sleep if you were lying next to me in just your undergarments. I can most certainly lend you something."

Greg blushed a bit at that remark. He followed Mycroft across his expansive flat to his bedroom. The room was much cozier than he would have expected from a man such as Mycroft. Before he could take in his surrounding though, Mycroft handed him a pair of crimson silk pajamas and opened a door into his bathroom. "You'll find everything you need on the counter. Take your time."

Greg thanked him and went into the luxurious bathroom. He did what he could to ignore the opulence and go about getting ready for bed. Mycroft had laid out a toothbrush for him, as well as floss, mouthwash, and a washcloth for his face. For the morning, there was a razor, as well as Greg's brands of deodorant and aftershave. If this were a normal first date, he would have been put off and would have left right then. But this was Mycroft Holmes. The man probably knew what brands Greg used as soon as they met by just getting a whiff of him.

Shaking his head, he pulled on the pajamas, which were a bit too long for him, and brushed his teeth. While brushing, he started to think of how Mycroft had reacted earlier. It made him sad that something as simple as holding hands was so unfamiliar to the man that he had pulled back. It then dawned on him that Mycroft had probably never been kissed before, which made him even sadder. The man was nearly forty and hadn't experienced any of the wonderful things that being in a relationship could bring.

He decided then that he was going to push Mycroft. Slowly, of course, to make him think that he was the one who was setting the pace (who was he kidding? Mycroft would probably see through that plan as soon as he left the bathroom). Realistically, he wanted Mycroft to be comfortable enough in their relationship to relinquish some control and let Greg slowly make him comfortable with simple things like physical contact.

Sighing, Greg opened the door and went back into Mycroft's bedroom. He grinned and held up the sleeves of the pajamas he'd been loaned. "I feel like I'm five again and wearing my dad's suit."

"Nonsense, Gregory, they're extremely flattering," Mycroft tutted, reaching for the cuffs and rolling up his sleeves for him. "Better now?"

Greg rolled his eyes. "Now I'm fit to chase London's criminals again."

Mycroft giggled, then picked up another pair of silk pajamas in navy blue and headed towards the bathroom to change.

"Which side do you sleep on?" Greg asked.

Mycroft turned in the threshold. "I beg your pardon?"

"Which side of the bed do you prefer. Seeing as it's your bed, I think it's fair to say that you should choose where you sleep."

"The left, please. I'll return momentarily."

Left alone in his potential boyfriend's bedroom, Greg once again thought of ways that he could help Mycroft get over this avoidance of intimacy that he had. He sat on the right side of the bed and then realized that he would have to be careful about physical contact during the night. His thoughts of banishing Mycroft's fears vanished and were replaced with thinking of how he was going to be able to keep himself from rolling over and cuddling with the incredibly handsome man sleeping next to him.

_How was he going to hide his morning wood?_

Before he could think too much about that, Mycroft exited the bathroom.

"I really do apologize for my reactions earlier," Mycroft said again.

"I already told you, you don't have to worry about that. This is moving at your pace. Are you positive that you actually want to share a bed tonight?"

Mycroft stilled. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No, God, no," Greg corrected himself while mentally admonishing himself. "I'm just saying that I may accidentally roll over and cuddle up to you during the middle of the night or wake up with a stiff one, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable at all."

"Those are normal human reactions, Gregory," Mycroft replied, rolling his eyes as if it were obvious that he would be fine with those. "I would be worried about your health and would ask you to consult a physician if you didn't wake up with an erection. As for the cuddling, if I am uncomfortable, I will take necessary measures to extricate myself from the situation."

"If you mean leaving your own bed, I may as well go home now."

"Of course I don't." Mycroft grinned wickedly. "I will shove you back onto your side of the bed."

"Sounds reasonable," Greg smiled, swinging his legs under the covers and leaning towards Mycroft. "May I kiss you goodnight?"

Mycroft stilled. "I- yes, you may."

Greg leaned over and gave him a light kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Mycroft."

"Goodnight," Mycroft breathed his voice barely a whisper. To cover his blush, he turned and switched off the lamp on his bedside table.

Things were awkward when Mycroft lay back down. Both of them were on their backs with about a half a foot of sheets between them. Mycroft was unsure of what to do in the situation, and Greg was nervous about pushing things too far. Mycroft began to breathe a bit more rapidly. He was _not _going to have a panic attack while he was in bed with another person. He had conquered the pesky anxiety that had plagued him for years nearly two decades ago and this was not the time for it to resurface. What was Greg going to think of him? A grown man who couldn't even share a bed with someone else, how much more pathetic could one get?

A warm hand gently took Mycroft's. He turned his head and saw Greg staring at him with what looked like a hint of a smile on his face.

"Breathe. If you get too nervous, I can always leave."

"I… am not aware of what the acceptable protocol for this situation is," Mycroft admitted.

Greg pulled their joined hands up and kissed the back of Mycroft's. "This is perfect. Just do whatever feels natural and I'll follow along."

* * *

Mycroft had the best night of sleep he'd had in years just holding Greg's hand. When he woke up, he turned and faced his sleeping date and smiled. It was then that he decided that he was done living his life alone, and he was going to work to overcome every insecurity he had about his ability to keep people close if it meant he got to keep Gregory Lestrade in his life on a permanent basis.

**A/N:**

**Hello, my loves! I promised another story that went along with "Meeting the Family" and I'm delivering! I will be posting chapters every week for this.**

**I'm also working on a few other stories that could fit into this timeline and I want to start a series. The problem is that I have no idea what to call the series. If anyone has any suggestions, I would really appreciate it.**

**As always, I'm super appreciative of your support! Love you all!**


	2. Chapter 2

Three days after they had slept in the same bed, their schedules miraculously aligned again and they were once again having dinner together. Mycroft had asked Greg over to his expansive townhome and had prepared dinner for him.

This time, it was Greg's turn to be nervous. He was determined to kiss Mycroft, but he didn't know whether that would constitute moving too quickly for Mycroft. He did everything he could to hide how distressed he was from Mycroft, but he had a feeling that Mycroft knew already. The man (infuriatingly) didn't miss a thing.

It wasn't until after dinner, though, that he commented on how nervous Greg seemed. They were sitting in two separate armchairs in front of the fireplace drinking wine. The room was dark, save an enormous fire that warmed the slightly drafty room.

"Is something the matter, Gregory," Mycroft asked suddenly.

"Everything is perfect. Why do you ask?"

"You seem distant. Am I doing something wrong? I am not used to having relationships of this kind and am not sure what the appropriate protocol is. I would appreciate it if you were to tell me when I am doing something that is considered unacceptable," Mycroft admitted, twirling the stem of his wine glass nervously between his fingers and staring pointedly at one spot on the floor.

Greg winced. The last thing he wanted was for Mycroft to think that he was doing anything wrong.

"You've done nothing wrong. I'm just- I'm nervous," Greg admitted slightly sheepishly.

"I don't understand," Mycroft frowned. "You have much more experience than I do in situations like this. Why should you be nervous?"

Greg swallowed. There was no good way to ask this. "Mycroft, I don't mean this the wrong way, but just how much experience do you have?"

Mycroft didn't answer.

"Please, I'm so worried about moving this too quickly. We may have just started something, but I really think that you and I have a shot at something amazing and I don't want to risk that by making you uncomfortable. I haven't been with someone who hasn't been with someone else like that since I was 16 and was just as inexperienced, and I'm really out of my depth."

Greg felt like he was going to be sick. Mycroft looked so miserable and he hated that. "Forget it," he muttered. "It isn't my business-"

"I had never held hands with someone until three nights ago," Mycroft admitted quietly. "No one but my mother has kissed me before. I decided that falling in love was not worth my time when I was 20 after I was subjected to watching men I thought I could love with other people even though their kindness towards me made me believe that I could have a chance with them. I don't know what speed I want this to move at because I have no experience to go off of."

"If you are uncomfortable, you are going to tell me, correct? This isn't going to work if you don't tell me when you don't like something."

"It will take a lot of effort for me to admit when I don't like something, but I will make sure to tell you if that is what will make this work."

Greg smiled and sighed, relieved. "Could I ask you something else?"

"If you wish."

"Would it be okay if I kissed you? Not like the one the other night. A proper kiss."

Mycroft nodded slightly. "I don't know how."

Greg stood and walked to Mycroft's chair. He set his wine aside and gently tugged Mycroft up by his hands. He rubbed his thumbs over the tops of Mycroft's hands and pulled away from the chair so he wouldn't feel as confined. "Just do what feels natural," he whispered. Then Greg slowly leaned up and kissed him.

It lasted less than five seconds. It was chaste and careful. There was no desperate, bruising press together or attempt to flicker a tongue in between the other's lips.

"Too much?" Greg asked after he'd pulled back a bit.

"I find that… I am amenable to doing that again," Mycroft admitted.

"You certainly have a way with words," Greg chuckled. He pressed his lips to Mycroft's again, his heart soaring a bit more when he felt Mycroft press back.

They pulled apart after a rather short amount of time. Greg still didn't want to push Mycroft too far, and he wanted to leave him wanting more for next time.

"I should be going," Greg sighed.

"You could stay again," Mycroft whispered.

"I don't think that I would be able to keep my hands off of you," he admitted sadly. "We should see each other again soon, though. You're intoxicating, you know that?"

Mycroft blushed, and followed Greg to his front door as he prepared to leave. "Will you be free for dinner again tomorrow? I know a wonderful French restaurant not too far from your flat."

Greg nodded. "I can't wait. Good night." He kissed Mycroft quickly again, and then left. It wasn't until he got into his flat that he broke into a face splitting grin and his heart began to flutter in earnest. That was the moment he realized he was going to spend the rest of his life with Mycroft.

**A/N: This week's chapter is a bit shorter. I have such a hard time being consistent with chapter lengths, so some of them are super long and nearly rambly. This is by far the shortest one for this story, though.**

**A huge thanks to everyone who has left me feedback in any way, shape, or form on this story. It means so much to me!**

**As always, I own nothing, and I apologize to everyone who owns these characters for using and abusing their creations.**

**Finally, a very happy and blessed Easter to everyone! For my fellow Catholics and other Christians, let's celebrate Christ's sacrifice and be thankful for all that He has given us. For everyone else, Happy Sunday (or Monday, depending on where you are in the world), and I hope you have a fabulous day!**

**(I know, a Catholic girl who writes porny fanfiction. I really am going to a special part of hell.)**


	3. Chapter 3

About three months into their relationship, Greg and Mycroft had their first fight.

Things had been going spectacularly. They had been taking things very slowly, only moving forward physically when Mycroft was ready. He was frustrated that Greg had decided that he was not going to move forward unless Mycroft told him he was ready for something or if he made the first move. He soon realized that it was beneficial for him and that he was slowly becoming more confident, which he appreciated. There was still one thing that he didn't have any confidence about.

Greg's shirt was unbuttoned and hanging open. He was lying on his couch and Mycroft was on top of him, working his way slowly down his torso, kissing and sucking and making Greg squirm. Greg, wanting to make Mycroft feel similar, reached up and began to unbutton Mycroft's shirt.

Mycroft froze. "Gregory," he sighed. "Please don't."

"Please let me," Greg pleaded, running his hands up and down the sides of Mycroft's body gently. "You make me feel so good. I just want to make you feel the way you make me feel."

"You do that every day," Mycroft reasoned. He ducked down towards Greg's nipple again in hopes of distracting him, but Greg caught him by his wrists and stopped him.

"Why won't you let me see your body? What do you have to be ashamed of?" Greg asked.

Mycroft shook his head. "This is something that I'm not ready for, Gregory. You keep telling me that we are taking this at my pace. I'm not there yet."

"I can see how insecure you are about this, though. Don't think I don't notice the way you cover yourself up all the time and how you're constantly worrying about what you're eating. They didn't make me a Detective Inspector for nothing. I might not have your powers of observation, but I know when something is bothering you. We're never going to move forward if you don't like the way you look."

"Plenty of people have issues with their bodies, Gregory. It is not entirely uncommon, and many relationships are successful despite one of the parties loathing the way they look."

Greg swallowed. "Is that actually how you feel? You loathe your body?"

Mycroft looked away and shook his head. "I don't want to have this conversation, Gregory."

"I don't really care that you don't want to have this conversation, Mycroft," Greg huffed. "This is a serious issue that could hurt us."

"This conversation is not going in a direction that I like," Mycroft said, ice in his tone.

"Well, sometimes when you're with someone you need to have tough conversations. Do you loathe your body?"

"I don't have to listen to this," Mycroft growled, hauling himself off of Greg and reaching for his waistcoat and jacket.

"You can't just run away from this, Mycroft," Greg shouted.

"Watch me," Mycroft countered, sounding more like a petulant child than a man of his rank.

"You sound like one of my children. Grow up and talk to me."

Greg knew he'd crossed a line when he said that, but he couldn't bring himself to say that. Instead, he watched Mycroft walk towards his door and said, "Call me when you can act like an adult and actually have a difficult conversation with me."

"Goodnight, Gregory," Mycroft sighed, and walked out.

As soon as he was gone, Greg felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room. He vaulted himself off of the couch and bounded down the stairs. He finally caught up with Mycroft while he was waiting outside of his building for a car to pick him up.

He turned when he saw heard to door swing open, and the look on Mycroft's face made Greg's heart shatter. He ran up to him and they crashed into each other's arms, kissing passionately on the sidewalk, something they had never done before.

"I'm sorry," Greg gasped between kisses. "I'm sorry. I'm a twat. I'm so, so sorry. God, Mycroft, if you're never ready to show me your body, I'll still be with you. I love you so much I don't care about that."

Mycroft pulled back slightly. "You love me?"

Greg paused. "Shit. I didn't mean to say that until a little later. I- fuck, I'm an idiot. I'm so-"

Mycroft pressed his forehead to Greg's and said, "I love you too. I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I'm sorry I wasn't ready for that."

Greg claimed his mouth again. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he sighed. "I'm sorry I pushed. You don't deserve that."

The car pulled up right then. "Stay the night," Greg pleaded. "I won't push. Please."

Mycroft nodded, and then he waved the driver on.

"Let's go back up and go to bed," Greg sighed. Mycroft nodded into his shoulder. They quickly got ready for bed and wrapped their bodies around each other, with Mycroft's face in the hollow part of Greg's chest. Greg caressed Mycroft's back and Mycroft pressed chaste kisses onto Greg's chest unlike the ones he had been peppering over the same space less than half an hour earlier.

A week later, they were curled up on Greg's couch again, just enjoying being wrapped up in each other's arms and savoring the fact that they were both able to grab a moment of peace and that they were able to have it together. Greg was surprised when Mycroft spoke.

"That conversation that we started to have last week…" he trailed off.

"We don't have to have it," Greg quickly supplied. "I was being an idiot. It makes you uncomfortable."

"Sometimes comfort is something that you have to give up for someone you love. Ask me that question again, please."

Greg sat up and faced Mycroft on the couch. "Do you loathe your body?"

"Yes!" Mycroft cried. "Yes, I hate the way I look. I hate how I worked so hard to lose weight and yet I still feel like I'm just as large as I ever was. I hate that to stay this way I have to watch every little thing that I put into my body. You're perfect and I want to be perfect for you and I hate that I don't feel that way."

Mycroft looked as if he was going to have a panic attack. Greg reached for his hand, but kept his body at a distance, not wanting to suffocate him.

"I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous," Mycroft muttered.

"Not at all," Greg said gently. "My God, Mycroft. I know that no matter what I say, you're going to think that I'm lying, but I wish that you could feel as gorgeous as I see you. I wish you could feel as gorgeous as you actually are."

Mycroft ducked his head. "I told you a few months back that I wasn't used to compliments like that."

"Maybe I need to say things like that a bit more often, then. Maybe you'll actually believe me one day."

Mycroft climbed over to Greg and sat on top of him, nuzzling his face into Greg's neck. "I want you to see me," he mumbled.

Greg pulled back, keeping his hands moving gently along Mycroft's back. "Are you sure?"

Mycroft nodded. "If I'm not comfortable, I'll ask you to stop. You've done it before and I trust you not to go any further than I want."

Greg slumped into his chest. "Thank you for saying that. Let me take you to bed."

They made their way to the bedroom. Greg stripped down to only his pants and told Mycroft to sit on the bed and wait for him.

"I want you to be comfortable being bare, and I don't think being the only one who is will help you," he reasoned. Mycroft gave him a nervous smile.

Greg knelt before him and placed his hands on his knees. "I want you to tell me what feels good, but more importantly, I want you to tell me what doesn't feel good. Whether its pain, or you're just uncomfortable. I want this, and every other time, to be good for you. Can I get you promise to do that for me?"

"Of course, Gregory." Mycroft's hands were trembling slightly.

"Hey," Greg said gently, catching them. "We don't have to do this."

Mycroft shook his head. "I need to do this. I wouldn't want to have this experience with anyone else."

Greg blushed. "If you start to get nervous or tense, just remember that I love you so much, and that no matter what you look like, I will still love you."

Mycroft nodded. "I'm ready."

Greg started with his shoes and socks. He pulled them off slowly and gently, and then pressed kisses to the tops of his feet, running his hands up his calves. He hauled himself up gently and licked the pulse point on Mycroft's neck, savoring the shudder that ran through his boyfriend. Going up further and licking the shell of his ear, Greg whispered, "Lie down in the center of the bed."

Mycroft lay stiffly in the middle of his bed. Greg decided that he needed to relax him a bit, so he kissed his hard, as if he was trying to suck the life out of him. Mycroft gasped and went pliant within a few minutes. Greg pulled away and Mycroft whined. Greg ignored that, but got a bit harder at that.

Knowing that Mycroft was more self-conscious about his midsection than he was about any other part of his body, Greg moved to his belt and undid everything there. He quickly took his trousers off and distracted Mycroft from his bareness by kissing his knees and leaving small love bites on his thighs. Greg didn't dare move to Mycroft's pants, knowing instinctively that would be considered "too far" for his boyfriend. They hadn't had orgasms in each other's presence yet, and that didn't have to happen tonight. Greg might combust from sexual frustration, but he could do his best to wait. He had to.

Mycroft was already out of his jacket and waistcoat, so Greg only had to get rid of his tie and his shirt. He quickly untied the tie and threw it aside, but he took his time with the buttons. He would open a button, then would kiss, lick, suck, and bite the newly exposed skin, touching Mycroft in a way that he had never been touched. Mycroft whined, arching up into the touches and panting. Once his shirt was completely open but still on, he gasped, "Gregory."

"I can stop," Greg whispered, pulling back.

"No," Mycroft sighed. "I can't last much longer, though. I'm sorry."

Greg kissed his cheek gently. "An orgasm is nothing to be ashamed of. Do you need me to leave?"

"Please don't. I would prefer it if you took this off," Mycroft admitted bashfully.

Greg could have danced. He slowly worked Mycroft out of his shirt and went back up to his mouth. He kissed Mycroft passionately again and dropped his hips down, grinding their crotches together. Mycroft actually cried out when Greg did that. Greg grinned and kept bucking them together, moving until Mycroft arched his back and hissed as he came. Feeling Mycroft shudder beneath him was just too much for Greg, who hadn't had sex in over a year, and he slumped forward onto Mycroft and came in his pants harder than he had in a very long time.

They lay like that for a little while, until Mycroft shifted under him. Greg smiled goofily and asked, "Was that good?"

"I have not experienced anything like that before," Mycroft admitted slightly sheepishly.

Greg chuckled and nuzzled Mycroft's stomach, just around his navel. "You are so handsome. Did you know that?"

Greg could practically see the blush in Mycroft's stomach. "You don't need to say that."

"You are, though," Greg said adamantly, not looking away and caressing his hips. "Do you know just what you do to me? You turn me on in so many ways. I want to make love to you every day, but if that doesn't end up happening, I could just sit here and look at you and listen to you. You're smart and you're handsome and I am so ridiculously in love with you that it should be illegal."

"Gregory-" Mycroft said thickly.

"You should go to the bathroom and change. You should probably wipe yourself off a bit too. You don't want your pants to stick to you," Greg sighed. He didn't actually want Mycroft to leave, but he knew he didn't know how to handle the situation and needed a moment or two to compose himself.

Mycroft hauled himself up and grabbed a pair of his pajamas. He threw Greg one last look as he went into the bathroom, one that was so full of gratefulness and love that Greg's throat nearly closed.

When they had both cleaned themselves up and gotten back into bed, neither of them were quite ready for sleep. They lay facing each other and talked for hours. At one point, Mycroft sighed and looked down, looking almost guilty.

"What's wrong," Greg asked.

"I love what you did to me earlier, and I really appreciate it, but," he paused.

Greg reached out and touched his shoulder. "If you don't want to do that again, I won't mind. Really."

"Not at all," Mycroft said, looking almost horrified at the thought. "It's just that you made me feel so good about myself earlier, and I'd never felt that way before. I know that it's going to take me a while to actually feel that way all the time, and I may never actually be comfortable with the way I look, but I wanted to thank you for loving me and for trying to make me love myself."

Greg kissed him on the nose and touched their foreheads together. "You're welcome, but you don't have to thank me. That's my job as your boyfriend."

"Still, I feel the need to. You're so patient with me and I don't deserve it."

"None of us deserve it, Mycroft. Some of us just get lucky and we try our hardest to earn it for the rest of our lives. Don't ever think that there is something wrong with you because you started a little bit late and need some extra time to get yourself ready for a more physical relationship. I don't mind."

Mycroft yawned and wrapped himself around Greg. "I love you."

Greg kissed Mycroft's hair. "I love you too."

The two of them drifted off, completely content.


	4. Chapter 4

It took them a little while longer to move on from just a frot in one of their beds. Mycroft's first blow was, well, one of the shortest things Greg had ever experienced, and Mycroft had apologized profusely for his inability to hold off and then for his inability to reciprocate. It amused and horrified Greg that a man who was so confident and held most of the world in the palm of his hand was actually one of the most insecure and emotionally damaged people he had ever met. Greg had met victims of horrific crimes who were more emotionally stable than his boyfriend, and he made it his mission to make sure that Mycroft would eventually believe him when he said just how much he loved him. He quickly realized that in order to make Mycroft feel better, he would have to do what he could to find and take care of the root of the problem.

That was not difficult to find. The root of Mycroft's problems was a bit over six feet tall, had messy black curls, and held the profession of the world's only consulting detective.

Around five months into their relationship, Mycroft showed up to a crime scene on a fairly miserable cold and rainy evening to talk with his brother about something. He looked, in Greg's opinion, fantastic. He had been less strict with his diet, yet he had managed to maintain his weight over the last several weeks since their fight. Standing there in his impeccable suit and leaning on his umbrella made Greg want to haul him into the nearest alley and have his dirty way with him. With that thought, he could see Mycroft cock an eyebrow at him, and he quickly looked away so he wouldn't have an interesting problem to deal with.

Sherlock, who had known what was happening between the two of them, strode over to his brother in the middle of his deductions. He left John and Greg crouched over the body looking for a bruise on the victim's left bicep and neither of them noticed him leave.

"Afternoon, brother dearest," Sherlock's deep voice rang out in an uncharacteristically sing-song tone.

"Fuck," John muttered. "He's been itching to sink his teeth into Mycroft since that business with the flash drive." He then flashed bright red and corrected, "Not literally, I mean. That's not something you need to worry about."

Greg groaned. Mycroft and Sherlock were far away enough that he couldn't hear what they were saying, but the way Mycroft straightened and seemed to shrink the area around his midsection gave him a good enough idea about what Sherlock was saying. He began making his way over there.

"-a bad influence on you, Mycroft. You've looked better in recent years, although I suppose with the colder weather coming soon this extra layer of blubber will protect you much like it protects a walrus in the frigid temperatures of Antarctica."

"Really, Sherlock," Mycroft scolded, trying to look unaffected. "Stooping to woefully uncreative similes now? I'm afraid you're losing your touch."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he turned to Greg. Apparently that was just the wrong thing to say to Sherlock, who was just looking for a fight now.

"You haven't slept with him yet?"

"What Mycroft and I do with our time is none of your business," Greg answered coolly.

"I should think that because he's a virgin you would want to 'get on that', as the turn of phrase goes. Or are you saving the experience, just waiting for the right time to take that from him?"

"Sherlock-" John tried interrupting.

"Or is it that you're too disgusted by him to want to see him naked? I would think that's the most likely option, although that doesn't explain the way he's started to neglect his diet recently. You would think that he would work harder to please you, seeing as no one else would ever consider being with someone like my brother. He wouldn't want to do anything to lose that. He'll cling onto you until he suffocates you. Or he'll just sit on you and the job will be done. Leave while you still can, Lestrade, because soon the thought of being with someone as horrendous as Mycroft will-"

Sherlock was cut off by Greg's fist slamming into his face. He staggered backwards until John reached out and steadied him before he hit the ground.

"Gregory," Mycroft gasped.

"I am not going to call you onto a case until you apologize, Sherlock," he growled.

"He doesn't have to-" Mycroft began.

"Yes he fucking does, Mycroft! You don't have to take that shit from him or anyone else," Greg shouted. "Apologize now, Sherlock."

"Fucking Christ, Lestrade," John shouted. "Give him a minute."

Sherlock looked like he was swallowing something extremely sour, but he managed to mutter out an apology to his brother.

"Thank you," Greg sighed. "Now get the fuck off of my crime scene. I don't want to see you for a week. Consider it a suspension."

Sherlock looked as if he was going to protest, but John silenced him and said, "We should get home and I'll clean that for you."

Sherlock grumbled something inaudible, but he let John haul him up and steer him in the direction of the street to get a cab.

Greg waited until they were out of sight until he turned to Mycroft. Mycroft looked wrecked.

"Come on," he sighed. "Let's get you home."

"You can't leave," Mycroft protested.

"It's Gregson's team. He just asked me to come because I'm the only one who can handle being around Sherlock for more than ten seconds. Although." He dragged his foot in the gravel and shrugged. "He heard all of what Sherlock had to say. I'm sure he can handle it from here."

"I need to get back to the office."

"Not today, you don't. Come on, Mycroft. Let's just get you home."

Mycroft relaxed his posture a bit, but it may have well been him slumping and admitting defeat. He allowed himself to be shuffled into the car behind him. Throughout the ride back to his townhome, Mycroft stared daggers at the headrest of the passenger's seat and drummed his fingers on his thigh. He didn't look at Greg or acknowledge his presence in any way until they were both in his foyer taking off their coats.

"Would you like me to make you some tea?" Greg asked.

"If you don't mind," Mycroft said softly. "I'll be back down in a few minutes."

Greg nodded and let him take a few more minutes to himself. He brewed Mycroft's favorite tea and mixed in a bit of sugar, which he only indulged in on days where he was particularly intent on neglecting his diet, and his usual splash of milk. He carried both of their cups into the sitting room with their favorite couch in it and decided that lighting a fire would be a good idea. It would certainly comfort Mycroft, and he was a bit damp and cold from the rain that had been drizzling down at the crime scene.

Greg had just coaxed the fire to a satisfying roar when Mycroft stepped into the room in a more casual pair of trousers and a soft shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone.

"You look much more comfortable," Greg remarked.

Mycroft shrugged. "I decided that maximum comfort was necessary tonight."

"Come sit with me and I'll make you more comfortable," Greg offered, sitting down on one end the sofa and putting his arm on the back of it. Instead of sitting next to him and leaning into his side, which was something that he had recently started to do, Mycroft sat at the opposite end with his legs curled up under him.

"What's this?" Greg asked, trying not to sound as hurt as he felt.

"Would you like for me to resume my diet? I can start exercising if you so desire," Mycroft said, staring intently at the cushion in front of him.

"What? No, why would I want that?"

Mycroft shrugged very slightly. "Sherlock-"

"No, Mycroft, don't you fucking continue that sentence. What Sherlock said today-" Greg sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "Since when have you started listening to your brother, especially when he's just trying to get a rise out of you?"

"But what if I get fat again and you don't love me anymore?" The admission from Mycroft was so quiet and pained that Greg nearly cried.

"Oh Mycroft," he sighed, crawling over and running his fingers gently along his hairline. "Just what is it going to take to make you believe that no matter what, I'm sticking around. I don't care what size you are, just as long as you're happy and at least semi-healthy. I would like for you to stick around for a while." Mycroft leaned into the rubbing, but he didn't say anything. "If you keep listening to Sherlock, you are never going to be able to see yourself the way I see you. Do you want to know what I see every time I look at you?"

Mycroft barely shrugged. Greg cleared his throat. "You, Mycroft Holmes, are the most handsome man I could imagine, and I don't know what I did to get your attention."

"I am hardly handsome, Gregory. I would never make it in the public eye."

"That's just it, though. You require studying. You're captivating from the first, but when you let someone look closely at you, you are breathtaking. I get lost just looking at you. You're so lovely that I get distracted. Do you know just how much I think about you when I'm supposed to be doing other things? I barely get anything done anymore thanks to you. You've got a brain the size of Russia, legs that go on for miles, and when you laugh –really laugh, not one of those laughs you do for common people- you light up the whole room. I have fallen so hard for you, Mycroft. Sometimes love doesn't require an explanation, and you just have to trust what the other person says."

When Mycroft finally looked up at him, his eyes were a bit red, but he had clamped down any actual tears. He folded himself into Greg's arms, though. Mycroft nuzzled into his chest, pressing kisses to the cloth of his shirt, and Greg rubbed Mycroft's back and hair gently. They remained like that for many minutes without saying anything for a long time.

Mycroft finally broke the silence between the two of them by saying, "Please, I want you to have sex with me tonight."

"We've been having sex for nearly two months," Greg pointed out. He knew what Mycroft actually meant, but he needed him to say it.

"I mean I want to have penetrative sex with you. I would like for you to be inside of me."

Greg's breath hitched. "Are you sure you don't want me to be on the bottom for the first time?"

"No. I would like this very much for the time being."

"Right. No."

Mycroft jerked up and looked into Greg's eyes. "Why?" The rejection was seeping into his eyes, and it broke Greg's heart.

"No to tonight. I don't want you to do this just because you feel like you have something to prove. I very, very much want to do that with you, Mycroft, but I don't think that tonight is the right night."

Mycroft sighed. "I suppose I would probably ask you to stop."

"No, you would let me go through with it and then you would resent me. I don't want that."

Mycroft nodded.

"I also don't want you to decide that you want us to have sex and do it the same night. Anal sex isn't something that you just jump into. When we decide to do this, we need to make sure that whoever is on the receiving end gets prepared for a few days beforehand."

Mycroft looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Greg flushed a bit. "Um, well. Have you ever heard of fingerfucking?"

If Greg flushed, Mycroft went purple at that. "I have not, but I can gather what it entails."

"Right. Well. When you're ready, and I mean really ready, you tell me, and we can spend the next few nights preparing. Does that sound good?"

Mycroft nodded. "I like the sound of that."

"Good." Greg kissed the top of his head, and Mycroft snuggled back into his chest. They stayed like that for a while again before going up to bed and curling up around each other.

**A/N: I am a colossal shithead and you should all feel free to hate me. Remember when I said this would update every week?**  
**I know I shouldn't make excuses, but the last few weeks have been hell. The story is complete, but I haven't even had time to think about uploading it. Basically, I had tests in linear algebra, organic, nuclear physics, and anatomy over the last two weeks. On top of that, I have finals this week and I've been studying for those like a madwoman. I also just got promoted and am now an assistant manager at the store I work at, which thankfully hasn't started yet because I think I would combust. Anyway. I am going to do my best to get the next chapter up on Sunday like I promised, but if I don't, I'll have it up when my finals are done next week. Just remember that I love you all very much and that I am regretting this whole double major in chem and physics shit. Long story short: pray for me. Really fucking hard. Please. xoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

Greg pressed Mycroft against the door to his apartment and kissed him gently. He flicked his tongue gently into his mouth and traced lazy patterns along the inside of his lips. Mycroft occasionally let out soft moans. _Good._ Greg needed him as relaxed as possible if his plan was going to work.

About an hour earlier, Mycroft had showed up to his office, sat in the chair across from his desk, crossed his legs as primly as he could, and said that in a few days he would like to have penetrative sex with Greg and wanted to start getting ready for it tonight.

Needless to say, Greg had all but dragged him from his office and hopped in Mycroft's car.

Now here they were, five months after they'd begun dating, and Greg was finally, _finally_, only a few days from a proper fuck.

Mycroft went completely lax against him, and that was just where Greg wanted him. He pulled away and led Mycroft down the hall into his bedroom and gently began taking Mycroft's clothes off. He made sure to press kisses all over him and distract him from being naked.

He managed to stay calm until he heard the click of the bottle of lubricant opening. Mycroft tensed and his breathing picked up a bit then.

"Hey," Greg whispered, leaning up to stroke Mycroft's hair and nuzzling his nose into his eye socket and along his cheekbone. "We don't-"

"No," Mycroft cut him off. "No, please. I want to. I'm just a bit nervous."

Greg touched their foreheads together. "I promise that we'll go slowly. We're not going to go past a finger tonight, and I'm not going to go in if I feel that you're tense."

He began to move down Mycroft's body, but Mycroft caught him and pulled him up by his shoulders so they were face to face again. "You said 'we.'"

"This isn't something that you do to someone else, Mycroft. Sex is something that you do together."

Mycroft drew in a sharp breath and said very softly, "I don't know how it is possible, but when you say things like that, it makes me love you even more."

Greg kissed his neck and Mycroft shivered. "Promise me you'll tell me if there's anything wrong."

"I promise, Gregory."

Greg moved down and knelt between Mycroft's spread legs. He had placed a few pillows at the end of the bed so he could prop Mycroft up and make the task easier on both of them. He wanted to make sure he could see Mycroft's face so he knew just how he was feeling.

Taking a deep breath, Greg coated his index finger in lube and began to lightly trace figure eights around Mycroft's hole. He felt Mycroft stiffen, and refused to go any further until he managed to relax a bit. To speed that process along, he kissed and sucked on the insides of his thighs, teasing him by being so close to his cock.

Very slowly, he felt Mycroft relax. When he felt all of the tension drain from his body, Greg pressed his finger in to the first knuckle.

Mycroft gasped.

"What do you feel?" Greg asked.

"A bit of discomfort but nothing that I didn't expect based on the research I've done. Would you let me adjust before you go any further?"

Greg nodded. "Just let me know when you're ready. It helps if you bear down a bit."

Mycroft took deep breaths for several seconds, calming himself down. "Now, please."

Greg chuckled. "You know, the fact that you can still be so polite even in a situation like this is adorable." He then gently pushed his finger incrementally until Mycroft had completely swallowed his index finger.

"What do you feel?" Greg asked.

Mycroft moaned. "I feel full. Not in a bad way, just- it's so _different_."

Greg moved his finger in a small spiral, doing what he could to loosen Mycroft's sphincter so things would be a bit more relaxed the next time. He didn't anticipate what would happen next.

About twenty seconds after he moved his finger to expand Mycroft, he crooked his finger up to rub Mycroft's prostate. Mycroft had never experienced any sort of prostate stimulation and was completely caught off guard. As soon as Greg brushed it, Mycroft stiffened, his back arched, and he came.

Greg found this incredibly hot. Mycroft was humiliated. Greg gently pulled his finger out and as soon as he could, Mycroft rolled over onto his side and clutched himself in the fetal position.

"What's this?" Greg asked, thoroughly confused.

"I'm sorry, that was just so short," Mycroft mumbled.

"I loved every second of it." Greg stroked his arm gently. "Nobody is supposed to last an incredible amount of time their first time."

"That wasn't even half a minute, though!" Mycroft moaned despairingly. He closed his eyes and Greg saw a tear leak out.

Greg manhandled him into his lap so Mycroft's face was buried in his neck and he was sitting sideways in between his legs.

"I don't want you to feel bad about this, Mycroft. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Your reactions were so gorgeous. I caught you off guard with that last move. I should have warned you. If you're going to be upset with someone you should really be upset with me."

"I just want to be good for you and I failed," he mumbled thickly.

"Oh Mycroft, that was just incredible for me. Being allowed to touch you the way no one else has before is one of the most amazing feelings in the world." When Mycroft just sniffed in response, Greg added, "I think that you're so used to being the best at everything that you haven't considered that you're still somewhat of a beginner at this. One day very soon, you're going to be putting all of my skills to shame because you're going to pick up on things so very quickly. For now, you should embrace the fact that you're new to this and enjoy yourself."

Mycroft choked into his neck. "Thank you for being so understanding."

"Always, love." Greg kissed his forehead. "Let me clean you up and then we can go to sleep."

"You haven't come yet," Mycroft protested.

Greg cleared his throat. "I may have not been able to control myself and rubbed one out while you were still going. You were just so lovely like that. You're lovely all the time, but it was just so new."

Mycroft stared at him. "You will never cease to amaze me, Gregory."

They fell asleep that night wrapped around each other. Greg had his chin resting in Mycroft's hair and Mycroft had his face nuzzled into the hollow part of Greg's chest over his sternum. When they woke up the next morning, they both agreed that they always slept better in that position and from then on out it became their sleeping position of choice.

**A/N: Doves, I have not forgotten about you! I'm still in the middle of finals, but I put a reminder in my phone to upload this as a study break. Thank you to all of you who have sent me kind messages and have sent prayers/happy thoughts/virtual hugs/etc. to me. I'm done with anatomy and nuclear physics. Linear algebra and organic remain. All positive thoughts are still greatly appreciated, as are your reviews, favorites, and general love. Amidst all of the love, I want to address something I hate. I hate how when there are virgins in porny gay fanfiction, the non-virgin goes, "Oh goodie you're ready to fuck let me put my penis in your shockingly prepared asshole and pound into you." That can result in emergency room visits (see: pink socking) and emotional damage. As a result of my annoyance at this aspect of fanfic, I'm making them take it (WAIT FOR IT I'M ABOUT TO GET REAL PUNNY AND USE WORDPLAY BECAUSE I AM ACTUALLY HILARIOUS) slow and steady. Stepping off of my soapbox now and going back to studying. Prepare yourself for the last chapter. There shall be man sex. I love you all very much! xoxoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

The next night, they didn't try anything. Greg knew how sore Mycroft must be, even though it was just a finger that went in. Any intrusion would result in some discomfort, and he didn't want to make that worse for him. Instead, they experimented with the 69 position, which Mycroft greatly enjoyed. Greg also spent a good hour placing kisses all over his body and telling him just what he loved about each part of his body. Mycroft would later say that was one of the greatest experiences of his life.

The night after that, Greg put two fingers inside of him. He made sure to warn Mycroft when he was about to brush his prostate, and made sure to wrap his fingers tightly around the base of his cock to prevent his climax just in case he wasn't able to control it.

He was fine.

They stuck with two fingers for the next three nights. Greg definitely didn't want to rush anything, and he wanted the intrusion to be as easy for Mycroft as possible before he escalated to three fingers. When he was finally able to get three in, they stayed there for another two nights, when Mycroft could welcome them much more easily.

After the third night of three fingers, Mycroft told Greg that he was ready. The next night, it happened.

The foreplay was delicious. Greg laid Mycroft out on his bed and kissed him so gently that his muscles turned to jelly. He kissed and licked Mycroft's neck, worshipping it until he felt the urge to bite and moved lower. He nipped Mycroft's sternum and licked each pink spot where he'd abused the skin there. Mycroft kept his hands in his hair, gently carding it in the only expression of thanks that he could manage at the moment in his pleasure-addled brain.

They had accidentally discovered that Mycroft's chief erogenous zone was his hipbones. Greg alternated between kissing them and laid his arm across Mycroft's torso to keep him from squirming.

"Gregory," Mycroft finally panted. "I am going to need a few moments to collect myself or we are not going to make it penetration."

Greg lifted his head. "Alright," he agreed. He moved up the bed so his face was even with Mycroft's. They faced each other and Mycroft reached for Greg's hand.

"I can't believe how lucky I am to have you," Mycroft said breathlessly.

"We haven't finished and here you've started with the post-coital pillow talk," Greg grinned.

Mycroft paused. "Is this something I shouldn't say?"

"Not at all, love," Greg replied, continuing to smile. He took a deep breath and continued, "I am the luckiest man in the world. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm thankful for whatever it was. Thank you for choosing me to share this with you."

Mycroft kissed the back of his hand. "I'm ready for you to start preparing me."

Greg turned over and reached for the lube. "Do you want to be under me or do you want to be on top?"

"Under, please. I want to be completely surrounded by you."

Greg kissed his forehead. "Put your legs on my shoulders, then."

Mycroft drew in a deep breath and tilted his hips up. Greg coated his entrance in lube, and then gently pushed one finger in.

"Gregory, I can take a bit more than that," Mycroft panted.

Greg shook his head. "Let me take care of you. I want to take this as slowly as possible."

He took his time getting the next two fingers into Mycroft. Once he was properly stretched, Greg drew back and slicked his cock with a generous helping of lube. They had agreed not to use condoms once Greg had gotten tested. "Ready?" He asked.

Mycroft nodded.

Greg leaned over and pressed a gentle, closed-moth kiss to Mycroft's lips. "Tell me what you're feeling. I love you so much."

"Of course, Gregory. I love you more that I can say," Mycroft sighed.

Greg drew back and took himself in hand. He approached slowly, and gently stuck the head of his cock inside of Mycroft.

Mycroft arched his back.

"Alright?" Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded. "Just give me a moment to adjust."

Greg rubbed the sides of his torso gently and waited for Mycroft to give him the go ahead. It was about two minutes before Mycroft nodded and Greg began the slow press forward.

It didn't take long for Mycroft to dig his heels into Greg's back and suddenly Greg was completely sheathed in him. He bowed his head, giving himself a moment to adjust to the tight heat that engulfed him. He had forgotten how wonderful this felt, how much different it was from being with a woman.

"Are you ready, love?" Greg asked, waiting for permission to start moving.

Mycroft sighed. "Slowly, but yes please."

Greg pulled back, and reentered Mycroft fully as slowly as he could. He maintained a gently rhythm and Mycroft moaned softly with every thrust. When Greg finally found his prostate, Mycroft cried out and his back arched.

"Gregory-" he panted. "Come here."

Greg folded himself down so he was nose to nose with Mycroft, and did his best to trap his cock in between both of their bodies. They kissed sloppily (it was really more of a mutual lick than a kiss, but they couldn't care less) until Mycroft shifted his head a bit and panted, "I'm not going to last much longer, I'm sorry."

Greg silenced him with another kiss. "I'm nearly there as well. Just let go, love."

Mycroft nodded, and three strokes later, he was coming, moaning Greg's name. The clenching of Mycroft's muscles around him was too much, and Greg fell over the edge as well. When they were done, Greg bowed his head and rested his forehead on Mycroft's chest. Mycroft ran his hands through his hair again, in a much slower manner.

Greg didn't move until he'd softened enough that he slipped out easily. He grabbed a cloth he's set next to the bottle of lube and began to clean Mycroft up. He then flopped onto the pillow next to Mycroft and sighed contently.

"How was it?" Greg asked.

Mycroft grabbed his hand again and kissed the back of it. "I haven't felt as loved in my entire life. Thank you for making it so special for me."

Greg blushed a bit. "Thank you for sharing this with me. I hope I can make you feel that way all the time from now on."

Mycroft snuggled into him. "You make me feel wonderful by just being near me."

Greg squeezed him tightly. They laid there in silence for a while, until Mycroft cleared his throat and began to shift a bit.

"What's wrong?" Greg asked.

"I have a request of sorts."

"I'll give you anything you want," Greg promised. "What is it?"

"Well, I've heard so much about your children and I've seen photos, but I was wondering if I would be permitted to meet them?"

Greg smiled at Mycroft so widely he thought his face would split. "I think that can be arranged…"

**A/N: I've finished my finals! Thanks to everyone who sent me lovely messages while they were going on. I cherished all of them and really felt the love and support! I've finished packing my apartment, slept for a day and a half, and now I give you this! I'm going to start working on the next installment of this universe very soon. Keep an eye out for it! xoxo**


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